


The Engine in Your Chest Has an Expiration Date

by chocolatehoarder



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Action, Angst, Drama, F/M, First Time, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatehoarder/pseuds/chocolatehoarder
Summary: Original by ShooterSP: Двигатель в груди имеет срок эксплуатацииSince the English-speaking part of the fandom deserves to see this masterpiece, I decided to make a translation of it. If you speak Russian- please go check out the original!Larry and Sal are the best street racers on motorcycles, which becomes the reason why they challenge each other all the time, almost to the point of open hate even outside competitions. All the while, Johnson studies at a university, trying to pass his exams. Fisher plays in a garage based rock-band with his best friend CJ. Slowly but surely, all these people will face each other; Larry gets to meet Sally, while CJ start changing his attitude towards Fisher. All the while, some kind of shit is going on at the track. Anyways, a bunch of adventures featuring all these peeps.





	The Engine in Your Chest Has an Expiration Date

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Двигатель в груди имеет срок эксплуатации](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/464090) by ShooterSP. 



The roar of the cars and motorcycles pierced through the racket, coming from somewhere outside the city, next to the highway. Ignoring the cold, fall weather, the amount of people that came was huge. The gangs got together, looking with discontent at the opposing ones. 

Yep, that's just about how a normal day goes, or, to be exact, almost evening for these guys. Someone was cursing at the guy who put a hole in the tire of his car, others were just laughing to the point of pain, not even flinching to use quite offensive language towards the aforementioned two. Only the guys in Todd's company, Robert and some other big, bearded guy, chewing a not-so-small piece of pizza, were standing on the side and looking at all the commotion, trying to ignore the now common friendly fights. 

\- Agh fuck, I can't do this anymore, - sighted Morrison while rolling his eyes. - Why is it the same every single time? Where are the managers again?  
  
\- Cool off, ginger, - answered Robert, fixing up his mohawk, which was slightly messed up by the wind. - You know for yourself, that all of these organizers do everything half-assed on purpose. All they want is some snacks and the view. 

The big guy was silently finishing his snack.   
  
\- I know. But at least they could have avoided making such... nuances. Lately the police has been interrupting those events even more, - Todd crossed his arms on his chest and leaned on the tree behind him. 

Robert spurted weakly, but eventually kept himself from laughing. Morrison- a lifelong nerd. Always trying to follow the rules, which, how he likes to put it, were completely absent in these kind of "events".

\- Dude, the police catches guys like us because the stuff we do is kind of illegal, get it? - said the guy with the mohawk, after which he took out a pack from his pocket, taking out a single cigarette, immediately inhaling it in, slowly exhaling air mixed with the smoke. 

\- Look, I get everything perfectly, but why attract attention with something like this? - the ginger guy pointed at a pair of fighting and cursing racers, who couldn't solve something like normal people again. - I even complained to the sponsors, but... 

Robert's eyes widened to the point of his purple iris being fully visible. Then he clenched his stomach, and started full-heartedly wheezing, while Morrison pouts in anger, barely keeping himself from lashing out. 

\- Oh, you know, today the... - suddenly blurted out the guy of a bigger build -

I forgot their nicknames.

Robert stopped laughing, and Todd stared at Chug with interest. 

\- The? - asked the ginger. 

\- Wait, are they who I think they are? - said Robert, fixing his hair again. 

Chug just coughed into his fist. 

\- Well, I heard a rumor, - he continued. - You noticed yourself, there are much more sponsors today than usual, and the third- party audience is also pretty big. 

Todd and Robert looked around. True. Any other day there's usually a pair or two of street-racers, with their scrapped pieces of metal, and just a dozen of bike racers. But today was a full house. The weirdest thing is, not one police car was headed towards the highway, even though the whole cockerel left that to be the only possible outcome. The sponsors paid quite a pretty number. 

Morrison looked at Robert, who started looking a lot more motivated than before. He gave him a skeptical once-over, after which finally decided to ask. 

\- Do you know who they are?

-Huh? What are you talking about? - the racer with the mohawk said, a bit slowly. - O-o-h, you're talking about the two daredevil racers?

\- I have no idea, dude. That's why I'm asking. - Morrison fully turned towards Robert, finally fully attracting his attention. Robert wanted to answer something, but then something grabbed his attention, causing him to narrow his eyes and his face to take on a disgusted expression. 

\- Why the fuck are you here? - he said, looking behind the ginger guy. 

At first, Todd arched one brow in confusion, then quickly turned around, stepping back a bit. Robert's question was clearly directed towards the person who suddenly appeared behind him. 

\- Too mean, asshole, - the blonde smirked, showing his golden plated front teeth and crossing his arms on his chest. Next to him were standing a bunch of other guys, who were glancing at Robert, Chug and Todd. 

\- Who were you blabbering about, fatass?

\- Hey! That's offensive! - mumbled Chug.

Instantly, one of the blonde's subordinates pressed the green haired guy against the tree. 

\- Travis, what the fuck do you think you're doing? Get off him! - Robert hissed, about to walk up to the blonde, but some other guy from his gang stood in between them, looking satisfied with something.

Phelps looked at his rival first, then at Chug, then at Robert again, and chuckled.

\- Fine, you're all just a bunch of fucking losers anyway, - he said, smirking again. - And those rumors of yours are all just a bunch of made up crap. Some shit you heard from an idiot, who doesn't know crap. A PR move, nothing more. 

\- What, are you jealous? - a sudden sound came from behind the blond guy's back, forcing the latter to flinch.

Robert widened his eyes again in surprise, while Todd just arched his other brow, clearly not expecting... him.

\- Holy shit! Rugged Shithead himself! - immediately blurted out Chug, brushing off the crumbs of pizza from his jacket and short beard. 

The ginger turned towards the guy, then looked again at the "newbie". Something definitely wasn't tying together in his mind.

The guy with slight sideburns and grown out strands of front hair was smugly giving Travis a once-over. The blonde clearly wanted to flip him off, but noticed how someone from his own gang was calling him with visible surprise on his face. Spitting on the asphalt, Phelps started moving toward his teammates, hitting the Rugged on the shoulder with his own one on the way. The two subordinated immediately ran after him. 

\- Holy shit! - Chug was still blinking in surprise, looking at the newly arrived racer. 

\- Johnson, so you're the "legend" everyone keeps spreading rumors about? - quickly asked Morrison, coming closer to the Rugged. 

The long haired male just scratched his not-so-small nose, then slightly smiled, fixing a lock of hair behind his ear.

\- Wow Todd, since when are you interested in such dangerous activities? - he sarcastically asked his old friend.

\- Since the time you and your mom moved out, I got interested where exactly you moved out to, - the ginger haired guy said, fixing his glasses. - And then I just traced you using the archive. Then found out about your hobbies when I accidentally met Robert, who brought me to the track. Didn't think you'd be one of the aces, Larry, - he said stumbling a bit. - I suppose that you're gonna ask me now, but no, I'm not a racer, just a part of the everyday audience. I'm observing Robert and gathering some data for myself. Not a bad business, dare I say, just illegal. 

\- Damn, didn't know your hacking skills were so good, Morrison,- Johnson said, coming closer to his friend. He pat his ginger hair, causing the latter to get annoyed.- If you happen to come up with a way to legalize those races, let me know. It's annoying to spend days behind bars,- Larry said. He looked at Robert. - Haven't seen you in a while, dude! Did you fix you stereo?

The racer clearly did not expect that Johnson would remember him. Even he didn't remember him. The Rugged cut his hair in the back and got even taller, even though one hardly believed he could grow anymore. His face became more mature, and he also got little sideburns, and looked like he worked out. Last time Robert saw the guy, Larry was fifteen.

\- I threw that piece of junk a long time ago and got a new one, it's way cooler,- the guy with the mohawk said after a moment of hesitation.- Todd helped to find the best one, plus we got quite a lot of dough 'cuz of his wicked skills at putting bets.

Larry looked at the two slightly surprised. Todd, feeling the witty joke taking shape in his friends head, decided to cut it short.

\- No, we're not dating, I didn't break up with Neil,- Morrison then looked around, after which he looked back at Johnson. - We're married for a long time now*. Had to fly to the States, but it was worth it. I'm not openly stating that fact anywhere, since every other person is homophobic. No, I'm not suicidal, it's simply an economical interest. 

The Rugged's surprise was growing at an exponential rate. He even put up his hand in an unclear sign and opened his mouth, but immediately got wary, furrowing his eyebrows and leaning his chin on his hand. Todd gave out a satisfied "tsk", thinking that he blocked off any path Johnson had. Remembering his stupid jokes about Rosenberg's teeth with shame, Morrison cringed, but calmed down in time. 

An awkward silence began, cut off with Chug's voice, coming back from the shock. 

\- If The Rugged Shithead is here, then The Fire is around, too.

Hearing the familiar nickname, Johnson's face took an expression of disgust: "Fire's here, blah- blah- blah - who gives a fuck". 

\- Nothing'll happen if that asshole doesn't show up,- said Larry cockily, looking around the track. 

\- I know that he's the best on the Nockfell highway,- added Robert, adding fuel to the fire. - The Fire Around The Corner. 

Chug and the racer started actively discussing the late legend. Every time Johnson heard the words "best" and "Fire", started losing his cool. The sighted in discontent, and looked at his watch.

\- Ok guys, I gotta go. Listening to you sure is interesting, but I have a race to attend to, - said The Rugged, already walking in the opposite direction towards another group of guys. The second he got near the track, everyone started whistling, greeting the dark-haired male. Todd was looking at the scene a bit surprised, after which started writing down stuff in his notebook. 

Larry was listening to the happy whistles of the audience, approached his team, which was already helping him get on his protective gear and checking the motorcycle. Johnson looked at his watch again. "If you're late- I'll personally murder you, asshole", he thought, after which he fixed his collar and took the helmet in his hands.

\- Just do like you always do, follow the plan,- said one of the guys from his gang. - Good luck, man!

\- Thanks, dude! - Larry gave a high five to the guy, then stood next to the bike, checking the engine.

The motor loudly roared after the turn of the key. Johnson got comfortable on the seat while the engine was warming up.

\- One minute until the start!  
  
The Rugged "tsk"-ed in discontent, driving towards the start line, where two guys were already standing. The engines of their motorcycles were deafening, muting the sound of people. Johnson started remembering the track, which he was about to race on.  This time, the route was altered a bit. A lot more detours with sharp turns. On one hand, they made the course shorter. On the other, an amateur would crash and burn on these tours. But The Rugged would do anything to win this time. 

Johnson was clearly the leader on the track. Maximum amount of tricks, drifts, and especially maximum amount of speed. He was a sight to behold. But now, everything was depending on the arrival of one racer, who was always appearing during the last second with the flashiest way possible. That got Larry the maddest. His showing off, which has taken all the other racers by a storm. Every standard was equal to Larry's, except the skids. The Fire's trick hasn't been repeated by anyone yet, even Larry, making him even angrier toward the racer. Johnson tried to over-do him in all the other standards, but The Fire caught up to him way too fast. The Rugged could now only out-do him speed-wise, but he needed an actual victory to officially be the leader in the chart of the fastest racers.

\- He's coming!- shouted someone from the audience.

Everyone immediately quieted down, and only the slight wheezing of the motors was audible. Suddenly, from the depths of the track, a pair of lit up light bulbs appeared, and after the bend and an ensemble of sparks appeared a bike, leaving an unimaginable amount of dust behind it. The audience gasped, and started loudly welcoming The Fire. The racer abruptly came to a stop, after which, with a drift, parked at the other end of the starting line, causing all the other racers to be enveloped in the smoke his bike produced, including Johnson, who started regretting not having his helmet on yet.

\- Asshole, what the fuck?- coughed out Larry.

The newly arrived racer has a blue mask with a yellow streak of lightning across it. His nickname- The Fire Around The Corner. He silently crossed the lane, stopped equally next to the other, and showed Johnson his middle finger, which caused Larry to open up his dictionary of never-ending curses. Then the blue-haired racer took his helmet from one of the guys and started fastening it, not even bothering to take off the mask. With a sign of his hand, he showed the others that he's ready. 

Everyone around started shooting the breeze about how The Fire and The Rugged were on the track again. Everyone's excited, and the audience started to creep around the racers. The judges and a few other muscled dudes had to take them away from the track. 

\- I'm gonna win today, fuckup, and your showing off won't bring you the fame you're so used to,- said Larry, addressing the blue-haired guy, after which he wore his helmet, and started turning the handle even more aggressively.

From the glass of his helmet, Johnson noticed a pair of blue eyes staring him down. "This bitch!"- he thought.

\- Ready!  
  
The roar of the engines became louder, and the audience moved next to the track.  
  
\- Set!

The smoke and the dust was overflowing from under the wheels. The racers nervously put their leg on the bike to push off.

\- Go!- the judge gave the go- ahead.

The four guys, with a loud roar already going off into the depth of the track, disappeared in the newly- formed cloud of dust.

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* Officially, the first same- sex marriages in the US were allowed only in the state of Massachusetts, starting from the year 2004. But in this fanfiction, the date was changed to the beginnings of the 2000th year.  

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
